Wherever you will go
by GiraffeGirl
Summary: Two lonely souls meet in Narnia... but what happens when the one person who understands you is light years away? A tale of love, loss and learning to live alone. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Peter Pevensie sometimes thought that being High King was a pretty good job; he was certainly the most respected human in the land of Narnia. Then there were other times, like this, when the other three looked to him for his advice and wisdom, and he realised that maybe the responsibility wasn't worth it. It wasn't like he'd been trained for the job after all; one stupid game of hide and seek and he'd somehow been flung into this other world. Still, at least he wasn't entirely alone, he thought, looking at his brother and two sisters, who were looking at him patiently, waiting for his thoughts on the matter at hand.

"Well, what did the fauns say about it?" He turned to his youngest sister, Lucy, stalling for time.

"They said she just appeared, out of nowhere," Lucy replied. "But you've heard all this already, Peter."

"I know, I know," Peter agreed. "I just wanted to get it clear in my own mind." _And I thought you might have some ideas of your own…_

"I don't understand how that can happen though," his other sister, Susan, pointed out. "For her just to appear out of thin air… that's ridiculous!"

"And walking in through a wardrobe is normal?" Edmund raised an eyebrow at his sister. "You're forgetting how we ended up here, Su."

Susan frowned at him. "Of course I'm not forgetting," she insisted. "But that was different, we walked in. This girl just… appeared."

"Allegedly," Peter added hastily. "We don't know for sure that's what happened. I mean, with all due respect, Lucy, fauns have never been the most… honest of creatures." A touchy subject in their family.

"Well I believe them," Lucy glared at her older brother.

"I think we should wait for the word from the unicorns," Peter decided. "Or at least until the girl gets here."

* * *

Emma stared at the creature in front of her in amazement. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, except in picture books, and even then, it had looked nothing like this. It was like a horse, but so much bigger and brighter and more beautiful than a horse as to make it nothing like a horse. It was pure white, and didn't even have any of those grass stains on it that white horses at home seemed to have. Its mane was long and flowing, but didn't even have any leaves or knots in it, neither did its tail. Emma was sure if she touched it, the hair would feel like silk, but she didn't dare. Something in its large dark eye, which looked at her extremely proudly, suggested that it wouldn't let her touch it until it was ready. And she wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of that horn.

It had looked at her for a full five minutes, or even longer. Emma was already becoming aware that she was losing track of time. It could have been days since she'd found herself thrown onto the grass here, or only minutes.

Now the creature turned away from her and leaned in towards another creature, who looked like a very hairy man with… she must have imagined it, but… hooves? And if she hadn't known better she could have sworn that the two creatures were… talking?

The unicorn finally turned back to look at her and Emma nearly passed out when it said, in a soft clear voice, "Daughter of Eve… I trust you have a name?"

Emma made an attempt to answer. "Em… Emma."

The unicorn flared his nostrils slightly. "Em-Emma. Interesting." He twitched his tail and then drew himself up to his full height, sticking his chest out and tossing his head back. "I'm to take you to Cair Paravel."

Emma raised her eyebrows. Something of her usual confidence came back. "Yeah?" she said doubtfully.

"Yes." The unicorn nodded, but his proud stance slackened a little. "By order of Peter the High King," he added, as if to qualify his statement. He glanced at the man-like creature next to him, seemingly for support. The unicorn twitched his ears and then turned back to Emma. "So… so you're to come."

Emma frowned. "What? Where though?" She wasn't stupid enough to just gamely follow a (she couldn't believe she was even thinking this) _talking unicorn_, to some fantastical place. This just didn't happen. Where in God's name was she, this was a world away from Oxford Street, London in the June of 2004. One second she'd been walking across the busy road and then wham! She found herself falling, thrown down onto a soft carpet of grass. Barely had she recovered her breath, or her stomach, when all these creatures had come out of nowhere. And now one of them wanted to drag her off to who knew where. What did unicorns eat anyway? They may look like horses, but there had to be a reason to have a horn that big and sharp-looking. It would probably try and eat her, knowing her luck. No way would she just wander off like this.

The unicorn was clearly taken aback by her reluctance to join him. He shifted his weight from hoof to hoof uneasily, like a small child who was in trouble. Emma wondered how it honestly expected her to take it seriously when it was clearly so unsure of itself.

"I already said," he said, whinnying slightly. "Cair Paravel."

"Maybe it might be an idea if you explained yourself a little better, Raanda," the man-creature next to him suggested in a stage whisper.

"Yes." Emma could have sworn that badger just spoke. "She's clearly not from Narnia is she?"

"Well of course!" Raanda the unicorn snorted. "Obviously." He fixed Emma with as fierce a glare as he could manage from his deep liquid eyes. "Cair Paravel is the castle on the eastern sea… the home of the kings and queens of Narnia." Before Emma could interrupt, and after a sharp look from the badger, he added hurriedly, "Which we're in. This is Narnia."

Emma looked at all the creatures slowly. As well as Raanda, the man-creature and the badger, there were two horses, a cow, three rabbits, a squirrel, three more of those man-creature things, two stunning and willowy looking women and a robin. They were all looking at her intently like she was an animal in a zoo. Her head suddenly hurt and she put her hand to it gingerly. Blood came away onto her palm.

"She's bleeding!" one of the women exclaimed.

"I'm fine," Emma insisted. The blood on her forehead was already congealing. "I've just hit my head, it's fine." She'd done worse before, like when she'd somehow broken her arm in two places from slipping over in the kitchen at home. A cut head was nothing.

"She should be sitting down!" the badger insisted. Okay, so maybe she wasn't as fine as she thought if she was imagining badgers talking.

"Raanda, you made her stand up this whole time!" one of the horses, a huge but gentle looking brown mare. "She could be seriously hurt!"

"Well how was I to know?" Raanda asked huffily. He again shifted his weight anxiously. "Will… will you be okay to travel?"

"To Cair Paravel?" the brown mare looked at him incredulously. "That's miles away! It's a good day's trek from here!"

"But High King Peter was very specific…" Raanda attempted to justify himself.

"Oh, come off it, Raanda!" the first man-creature rolled his eyes. "Did you even speak to him yourself?"

"Well, no…" Raanda looked down at his feet, nearly knocking several people out with his long horn. "I… I was asked to come by…"

"Your father?" the second willowy woman suggested in a softer voice.

Raanda nodded miserably. Emma couldn't help thinking that he should be more careful with the two foot spike on his head.

"I'm fine, honestly," Emma said again. "Look, I'm not bleeding anymore, I'm fine. If I'm to go somewhere, I suppose…"

"She can't possibly walk that long way," the cow insisted. "You'll have to give her a lift, Raanda."

"What?" the unicorn squealed indignantly. "But you know we unicorns never get ridden, we're not like common carthorses you know!" He looked at the two horses defiantly. When they returned his look with two wry stares, he became even more annoyed. "Well, we're not!"

"Oh, come on now," the other horse, a grey stallion, who looked like he'd been through a few wars, said. "Would it really kill you to give the poor girl a lift?" He descended into grumpy mutterings, of "Calls himself a unicorn! That horn's barely a lump on his head!"

The first willowy woman took pity on the disgraced unicorn. "Come on, Raanda, just this once," she said gently, stroking the unicorn's neck. "She really can't walk all that way, and you're much faster than anyone else."

Raanda twitched his ears thoughtfully, before finally raising his head again. "Alright, I suppose," he said sulkily. "But we need to go now."

"Great," Emma nodded. "But I've never ridden a horse… I mean, a unicorn before," she corrected herself hurriedly when Raanda looked like he was about to throw a fit again.

"It's simple," the brown mare insisted, giving her a gentle shove with her nose. "And Raanda will make it as smooth as possible, won't you?"

Raanda, who had clearly had some high jinks in mind, nodded dolefully. "I'm going to have a drink first," he said miserably, trailing off to the stream running behind them all.

"He's only young," the mare said quietly to Emma as he walked away. "He doesn't mean any harm really. He's a nice boy, he'll be good company for you."

Emma really wasn't sure what she was getting herself into.


	2. Chapter 2

Susan had gone to reply to a letter she had received from Rabadash in Archenland. Peter wished that that fool would leave his sister alone, or at least she would see sense instead of the huge amount of presents he kept throwing at her. Lucy was down in the Great Hall, discussing a banquet they were holding with the servants, leaving the two kings alone upstairs.

Edmund looked up from the book he was attempting to read. "Peter, something's bothering you," he said, watching his elder brother pacing the room anxiously. "Whoever this girl is, I'm sure she's no threat. From all the reports we've had, she's as confused at being here as everyone else is."

"It's not that." Peter shook his head. "Well, not that exactly. If she's from our world, then obviously she can't be a threat."

"Then what?" Edmund was becoming increasingly concerned. "What do you mean, if she's from our world? Where else could she be from?"

"I don't know." Peter sighed. "Only… look, don't tell the girls yet, okay, it might be nothing, you know how people get things wrong here."

"Of course." Edmund nodded. He leaned forward as Peter sat down opposite him at the table.

Peter took a deep breath. "Some of the reports I've been given have said that she's wearing… that she's wearing trousers, Edmund!"

Edmund frowned. "What?"

"I don't understand it. No girl from our world would wear trousers, it's just not normal!"

"So what are you suggesting then?" Edmund asked. "That she's _not_ from our world?"

Peter shrugged in a very un-kingly manner. "I just think it's strange. Surely if she were from our world, she'd dress like us too."

"Maybe she's from a different country," Edmund suggested. "Like America or something. It doesn't mean she's necessarily from a different _world_ just because she's dressed differently…" He looked hopefully at his brother. "You're worried aren't you?"

"No." Peter shook his head, but then had to nod miserably at the end. "I just… if she isn't from our world, I don't know what to expect. By inviting her here, by almost welcoming her in… I could be putting Narnia in danger, Ed, I could be jeopardising everything. What if she's another witch?"

"We'd know if she was," Edmund insisted. "We've come across enough evil since we came here, we're practically professionals!" He attempted to joke. It fell flat. "It'll be okay, Peter."

Peter nodded, standing up. "Yes, of course it will," he agreed. "I'm going to go and check on Susan, see what rubbish she's writing to that Rabadash now. You won't say anything, will you, Ed? Not until we know anymore."

"Don't be stupid. But it'll be fine, Peter, you'll see."


	3. Chapter 3

They'd been travelling forever, or so it seemed. The landscape was beautiful; Emma knew she ought to appreciate it. It was far better than the bloody Lake District, where her dad insisted on taking her walking every summer on holiday. Whilst everyone else she knew, including her best friend Amber, were sunning themselves on a Spanish beach, she was dragged year after year to soggy northern England. No wonder her mum had divorced him.

She was so tired though, she thought, as Raanda continued trotting on. She'd expected him to be jolty, but it was actually very comfortable. She was still exhausted though, and knew she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

"Raanda," she said finally, gingerly. They hadn't said a word to each other in the whole time they'd been travelling, and the sun had moved right round in that time.

"Yes?" Raanda answered immediately, almost as though he was dying for someone to talk to.

"Could… could we stop for a bit?" she asked. "Only I'm so tired and thirsty…"

Raanda's trot instantly slowed down and within seconds he was ambling along like an old pony.

"Is it okay if I walk for a bit?" Emma checked.

"I was going to ask the same, actually," Raanda admitted. "Only my back you see…"

"Oh of course." Emma slid off quickly, landing with a bit of a bump, but stayed on her feet.

"Do you want to stop?" Raanda suddenly asked. "You do look tired."

Emma was about to shake her head when she noticed him looking longingly at a patch of thick green grass. "Why not? I could do with a sit down."

Raanda virtually nose-dived into the grass and began stuffing his face in a most ungraceful way. Emma sat down and stretched out, blinking in the afternoon sun. Even compared to London in the summer, it was hot here, and part of her wished she hadn't put on jeans that morning… but then again, how was she to know she'd end up here?

"I would offer you some," Raanda said finally, when he'd all but demolished the grass. "But you humans don't seem to like grass. Assuming you are human of course?"

"Of course!" Emma laughed. "What else would I be?"

Raanda chewed on a dandelion thoughtfully. "You could be anything. A witch, a troll, an overgrown dwarf, a dryad, a nymph…"

"A what?" Emma giggled. "What on earth is one of those?"

Raanda looked at her sharply. "You don't what a nymph is?"

"No." Emma shook her head. "Am I supposed to?"

Raanda swished his tail. "A nymph is a water spirit," he informed her, delighted to finally know more than someone else.

"Okay," Emma said slowly. "So what's a dryad?"

"A tree spirit," Raanda replied, chewing on some particularly tasty grass. "You've met some already today. Back at Lantern Waste."

"Those women!" Emma suddenly realised why they'd looked so willowy; they were willow spirits! "They were beautiful!"

"Well, they're not technically women," Raanda pointed out. "They just assume the form of women. But yes, they are beautiful."

They stayed silent for a while longer.

"So this king you're taking me to?" Emma said after a bit.

"The High King Peter," Raanda corrected her quickly.

"Yeah, him," Emma agreed. "Is _he_ human? Or is he one of these spirits?"

"Oh he's human!" Raanda nodded excitedly. "Him and his brother and sisters! Human through and through… probably more human than you are!"

"What?" Emma exclaimed. "I'm as much human as they generally come. So how did they get here then?"

"No one's really sure," Raanda replied, as he scratched his leg with his teeth. Emma made sure to keep well back from his waving horn. "They just sort of… appeared one day… like you. A while back now, before I was born… my father remembers it."

"So they're old then?" Emma said.

"I wouldn't say so," Raanda replied. "I mean, it's hard to tell with you humans. You don't grow horns like we unicorns, or even beards like the dwarves."

"Will your horn get bigger then?" Emma stared at the already long horn in amazement.

"Oh yes!" Raanda nodded eagerly. "I'm only four years old. My father's is nearly twice as long!"

"Does that not get a bit… well, dangerous?" Emma asked.

"Only if you're silly with it, like I am, sometimes." Raanda looked a bit miserable then. "My mother says I should be more careful with it. My father says I wave my head around too much, like a horse. He says I'm a disgrace to unicorns."

"Oh that's horrid!" Emma exclaimed. "You poor thing!" Instinctively, she stood up and stroked his neck. "I think you're a lovely unicorn!"

"Really?" Raanda seemed to cheer up at this. "So I'm not the worst unicorn you've ever met?"

Emma hesitated. It wasn't technically lying so… "Of course you're not," she replied, scratching his shoulder gently. "Now, shall we get going again?"

* * *

It was dark by the time Raanda finally said, "We're nearly there." He twitched his neck where Emma was dozing. "Em… we're at Cair Paravel."

Emma lifted her head up. "Really? You're not joking are you?"

"Look for yourself," Raanda encouraged her.

Emma looked. The castle loomed in front of her, and even in the dark, she could see how stunning it was, with its tall turrets and huge windows. Looked pretty draughty though.

"Why are all the lights still on?" Emma asked. The castle was a hive of activity, even this late on in the day, when the sun had long been set.

They're waiting," Raanda replied.

For what?"

You."

What?" Emma nearly shrieked. "Why? What's so special about me?"

You're human," Raanda reminded her. "And you did just appear out of nowhere."

I suppose," Emma agreed. She absent-mindedly twisted Raanda's mane in her hand. He snorted indignantly. "Oh, sorry Raanda!"

Don't be nervous," Raanda said, even as his own ears went back anxiously. "They're nice people."

And that's why you're so petrified, right?" Emma teased him.

We are pretty late," Raanda said. "My father won't be happy. He was asked by the High King Peter himself to come and get you…"

So he sent you," Emma pointed out. "We came as fast as we could. So relax."

aanda trotted on for a bit more until they were at the gates to the castle. Then he stopped, fairly abruptly.

I think you better go on from here alone," he said warily, looking at the guards on the gate. "I really should be getting home."

Emma slipped off his back and stood next to him looking at the guards too. "Will they let me in?" she said in a quiet voice, suddenly nervous. She'd never even met her local MP back home, let alone royalty. And she was hardly dressed for the occasion.

"Of course." Raanda nodded. "They've been waiting for you long enough. Go on," he nudged her with his nose. "I'll see you soon."

"Okay. And be careful with that horn!" Emma reminded him as he trotted away. She swallowed her nerves and walked up to the gate as confidently as she could.


	4. Chapter 4

"Peter, you can't deprive the poor girl of anymore sleep!" Susan exclaimed as the girl was led out of their shared chambers. "I can't believe you wanted to interrogate her tonight!"

Peter glared at his sister. "And I can't believe you undermined my authority like that! I said we should talk to her before we made any decisions, and there you go offering her a bed and food!"

"She was tired, Peter," Lucy pointed out. "She's been travelling all day, and she's got that big cut on her forehead… what difference will one night make?"

"A lot!" Peter replied crossly. "How do we know she's not faking it?"

"Faking what?" Susan said, completely baffled by her brother's behaviour. "She was ready to drop she was so tired. Anyway, why would she fake being tired?"

"I don't know." Peter shrugged irritably.

Edmund stepped in. "Look, we're all tired," he said calmly. "Why don't we all go to bed?"

Susan nodded. "Good idea. I… I'm sorry if I've upset you somehow, Peter, but I really don't see how."

Lucy hung back from Susan to wait for Edmund in the corridor. She looked at her brother.

"What's Peter not telling us?" she asked.

"Nothing," Edmund insisted. "He's just had a long day, you know how he thinks he has to be High King all the time."

"And I know when he's hiding something," Lucy persisted. "And you."

"It's fine, Lu." Edmund was adamant.

Lucy looked down at the floor before saying, "You can't treat me like a kid forever, you know, Edmund. We're not at home anymore." She walked towards her bedchamber without another word.

Edmund sighed. Didn't he know they weren't at home anymore?

* * *

Emma felt more dressed for the part the next morning, having awoken to find a dress draped over the foot of the bed. She'd slept so soundly she felt ready for anything, which was just as well, she thought, as she entered the library, where the two kings and queens were seated. They looked friendly enough. Especially the two queens. Now if only she could remember their names…

"I trust you slept well?" the tall pretty one asked. Susan, that was it, Queen Susan the Gentle.

"Oh, brilliantly." Emma nodded.

"That's one of the most comfortable beds I've ever slept on," the other queen insisted. Lucy the Valiant, whatever that meant. Now that Emma was seeing her in daylight, she didn't seem any older than she was, maybe even less so.

"And she ought to know." the younger looking boy, a man really Emma supposed, seeing as he _was_ king, laughed. "Lucy tried every single bed out the first few weeks we were here."

"Edmund!" The older king frowned at him. He was the only one who didn't look so friendly. Emma wasn't sure why, but he seemed angry with her.

Edmund fell silent again.

"We're pleased you slept well," Peter said eventually, adopting the grand voice he always put on for these important occasions "But now that you have slept well, we need to ask you a few questions."

"About who I am and why I'm here?" Emma suggested.

"Well, yes." Peter looked taken aback. He glanced at Edmund. How could she know that unless she was some sort of witch?

"Well what do you want to know?" Emma asked, looking at them all. They were all barely older than her, now she looked at them.

"Well, your name would be a good start," Susan suggested, as her older brother seemed very slow at asking the questions. "And how you got here… people said you just appeared!"

"I did." Emma nodded. "Well, I assume I must have done. I don't remember much." She shrugged. "My name's Emma White, I'm sixteen. I live in London."

"What?" Peter suddenly reacted. "London, England?"

"Is there another London?" Emma looked taken aback at his outburst. "Of course London, England. The world, the Milky Way, the universe if you want to be precise, but…"

Peter was at a complete loss. This girl claimed she was from London, his own home town. He knew it so well… or he had done before he came here. Surely this wasn't what it was like now. Even with the war…

"Hold on," he said quickly, just as Susan was asking another question. "You said you live in London?"

"Yes." Emma nodded.

"I think we've established she lives in London," Susan reminded him sarcastically.

Peter ignored her. "How? What about the war?"

Emma was completely at a loss now, and stared back at Peter. "The war?" she managed to say finally.

"Yes, the war," Peter replied. "We were evacuated to the country. Surely you haven't stayed in London."

Emma looked at the other three, wondering if this High King Peter was losing the plot. But they were all staring at her too, looking as though the penny had dropped for them.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said finally. "What war are you on about? There is no war, at least not in London, not for years."

"Maybe it finished," Lucy suggested in a small voice. "Maybe it's over."

"Has the war finished?" Peter asked.

Emma was still utterly confused. "What war?"

"The war with Germany!" Peter replied.

Emma's jaw dropped. It took a long time for her to regain her speech. "You mean… the Second World War?"

"I've never heard it called that." Peter looked at his brother. "Ed, you were always more into that than me…"

Edmund shook his head. "Nope."

Emma was still trying to comprehend what was being said to her. "You're on about the war against Hitler that started in…." oh why hadn't she listened in history? "1939?"

"Yes." Lucy nodded. "Has it finished?"

Emma looked the other girl in the eye. "It finished in 1945… nearly sixty years ago."


	5. Chapter 5

Ok, just to clear up a few points from the reviews I've been getting... In this story I've taken Narnia to bea real place where the children actually visited and so in my opinion, in this story, the Chronicles of Narnia were not written, but really happened. Therefore Emma would not have read about them, as the books never happened. Bit of a complex idea, but I've tried to explain it as best I can, hope you understand :S. And about the World War II thing... Emma's a bit dazed and confused at this point seeing as she's just crash landed in a different world (and also for another reason which won't emerge until... i think about chapter 14 or 15...) So I'd guess she'd be a bit puzzled. And yes time does stop when they go into Narnia... but hey, its magical! Right, that's done... so erm, chapter 5 it is then :D

* * *

Emma looked out over the sea from her balcony. Her long blonde wavy hair, freshly washed, trailed across her back, just finishing drying in the warm sunbeam falling down on her. The sea danced and she was sure she'd seen dolphins jumping around. 

She'd taken herself back to her room when Peter had begun accusing her of being mad. That had been nearly two hours ago by her reckoning.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Emma called. She was surprised, and more than a little scared, when Edmund came in. She wondered if she should curtsey or not. She attempted one hesitantly.

"You can spare the bowing and scraping," he said, smiling slightly. "Is it okay if I come in?"

"Of course. It's your castle after all."

He joined her out on the balcony. "It's a lovely view from this side of the castle," he said wistfully. "My room only looks out over the land. It's lovely but it's not quite this."

"Surely you can have whatever room you want," Emma suggested. "Being king and all. Why don't you have this room?"

"We agreed when we first came here," Edmund explained. "Peter would keep an eye out over the sea, and I would keep an eye out over the land. A safety thing."

Emma nodded. "I saw dolphins out there."

"Keep your eyes peeled and you might see the mermaids," Edmund replied. "It's a nice day, they'll probably be out and about."

"Sorry?" Emma looked at him in shock. "Mermaids? You're not serious?"

"You met a talking unicorn yesterday, and you think I'm joking about mermaids?" Edmund laughed. "You really aren't from Narnia, are you?"

Emma suddenly looked up at him very seriously from her green eyes. "You do believe me, don't you? I'm not mad, I do come from your world only… from a very different time from you."

"It's… it's a bit odd," Edmund admitted. "I mean, time-travelling and all that. It's a bit…"

"Magical?" Emma suggested. "And yet you think it's perfectly normal to travel to a different world?" She had a sudden thought. "Look, I can prove I come from London!" she said, crossing the room and rifling through yesterday's clothes. Finally she found what she was looking for and produced it triumphantly.

"A train ticket," Edmund said, looking at her uncertainly.

"For Victoria." Emma nodded eagerly. "Look at the date, that's yesterday's date! June 24th 2004, I'm not making it up, Edmund! I really do come from your world but in the future."

Edmund looked up at her slowly. He took a deep breath. "I believe you, Emma. I mean, you don't look like anything but a human, you're too _real_ to be a nymph or dryad. But I just don't understand…"

"Me neither." Emma shook her head. "But it _is_, that's the main thing! I'm not mad!"

"I know," Edmund agreed. "Can I take this?" He gestured towards the train ticket.

"Of course." Emma nodded.

"Now all I have to do is convince Peter." Edmund smiled. "And work out why you're here."

* * *

A few days passed. Emma slowly adjusted to the way things were done in Narnia. Susan was often preoccupied, receiving messages from dozens of suitors. Lucy was tied up organising this banquet, and though Emma tried to help, it was much more complex than the few house parties she'd organised back home. Peter was avoiding her, or so it seemed; too embarrassed by his misconception of her to even look at her. Edmund was nice enough when he had time, but a dispute between two tribes of dwarves was keeping him busy. So she was left to her own devices, whilst the others were supposedly trying to figure out how she'd got here and why. 

The days were gloriously warm, and Emma was soon attracted to the garden, after exhausting the many corridors in the castle. It was while she was out there one day that she came across the snake.

Emma had noticed a change in her since she'd arrived in Narnia. Never a wallflower, she was suddenly even more gutsy than usual, and she didn't bat an eyelid when the snake slithered down out of a tree to meet her.

"So you must be the daughter of Eve everyone is talking about," the snake hissed. It wasn't a very bad sound, Emma thought, quite pleasant actually, with the background of birdsong.

"I suppose," she agreed. "Though I do prefer the name Emma."

"Of course," the snake drawled. "You've caused quite a stir among us all, you know. People were beginning to wonder if it would ever happen."

"If what would ever happen?" Emma looked at the snake, frowning.

"Well, I shouldn't say anything." The snake looked embarrassed, if that's possible. "I wouldn't want to spoil any surprises."

"What surprises?" Emma was getting more and more mystified by this animal. "If you're on about the big banquet, I know about that."

"No." The snake coiled itself up in a warm spot. "It doesn't matter, forget I ever mentioned it."

Emma smiled and shook her head. "Well now you've got me interested," she said. "You can't just say that and not carry on, what is it?"

"Well," the snake said slowly. "Rumour has it that at least one human here in Narnia is in great danger of falling in love with you… And probably more than one."

"What?" Emma laughed. "Don't be stupid!"

"I'm only saying what they're all saying," the snake insisted. "But if you're going to be so rude…" It made to slither away.

"Wait!" Emma said suddenly. "Which humans?" she asked after a long hesitation.

"Ah, so you are interested!" the snake said in a mildly amused voice.

"Only out of interest," Emma said as nonchalantly as she could. "I like a bit of gossip as much as the next person. Or creature, obviously."

"Obviously." The snake sounded utterly enthralled by her. "I'm sure it's not beyond you to work it out for yourself. There aren't many humans to choose from here."

Emma was suddenly jolted into recognition. "You don't mean…?"

"Yes.' The snake nodded.

"But… they could have anybody they wanted!" Emma exclaimed incredulously. "They're kings!"

"Hush!" the snake said, sounding slightly worried. "You're disturbing the birds. They may be kings, but they're only human… and you're the only human girl here."

Emma frowned. "So I'm the best of a poor bunch, is that what you're saying?"

"Of course not!" the snake protested. "I'm saying… well, think about it. No king, no matter how magnificent or just he is can live forever. And who will take over then if he has no son or heir?" The snake drew closer to her. "Imagine being married to a king, Emma. Imagine being a king's mother. And imagine two kings fighting over you for that honour."

Emma could imagine it. Back in London, she would have died for even one boy to even notice her. Here, she could have two _kings_ fighting for her hand in marriage! That would knock the spots off any of Amber's recent conquests. She'd be _queen_ of this fantastic land.

"Are you sure about this?" Emma looked doubtfully at the snake.

"Certain!" the snake replied, drawing even closer. "You could be queen, Emma, of this whole land. All you need to do is what I tell you…" And the snake proceeded to tell her.


	6. Chapter 6

"So do you think this dress will do?" Susan drew Edmund's attention back to the deep blue dress she was wearing. "I mean I do like the yellow one, but Lucy wants to wear yellow, even though it doesn't suit her skin tone at all!" She looked at her younger brother. "Edmund, are you even listening?"

"No," Edmund shook his head.

Susan sighed in exasperation. What was it with her two brothers? Lately they'd both been in such a daze, especially Peter. Mind you, there were no prizes for guessing what was distracting him, she thought, as she saw him walking around the walled gardens with Emma.

"Edmund, is something wrong?" she asked as patiently as she could manage. She was supposed to be greeting some guests who had arrived for the banquet tomorrow evening, but she should probably try and be at least a little supportive towards her younger brother. He was always so grave and quiet, more so even than Peter, who had a lot more responsibility that he did. Edmund had never been the same since they'd come to Narnia, and even though she was pleased that that sneaky devious little side of his had gone, if he'd only relax sometimes she'd be far happier.

Edmund hesitated before saying, "Not really, I just… do you think there's something up with Peter?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Oh for goodness sake, Edmund! Is that what this is all about?" She shook her head. "Peter's fine, he's just…"

"Just what?" Edmund prompted her.

"He's in love." Susan shrugged.

"You really think so?" Edmund looked horrified. "With who?"

"Oh really, Ed!"

"Emma?"

"Well obviously" Susan laughed. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, and Emma's a nice girl." She took one final look in the mirror, checking her treasured crown was straight, before nodding at her appearance delightedly.

There came a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Susan called.

A servant came in. "Your majesties." He bowed. Susan wondered if she'd ever get used to this treatment. "There is a messenger downstairs who wishes to speak to you."

"Us?" Susan looked at Edmund uncertainly. "Are you sure it isn't our brother they want?"

"We have been unable to locate King Peter," the servant informed her. "He took some horses out a few minutes hence and has not been seen since."

Susan looked out the window and saw that he had indeed gone, as had Emma. "I suppose I ought to deal with this then," she said, feeling her heart sink. She was so useless at this kind of thing. "Send him up."

"He would prefer if you would come down to him, actually, Your Majesty," the servant continued.

"What kind of messenger is this exactly?" Edmund asked.

"A centaur, Your Majesty," the servant replied.

"Oh no!" Susan looked at her brother. "Maybe I'm not the best person for this job, Edmund. Maybe you should…"

Edmund nodded slowly. "Of course. I'll be right down," he said to the servant. Once the door had closed behind him, Edmund turned to his sister. "You'll have to start dealing with some of this kind of stuff soon, Su. Peter and I can't deal with it all."

"I know." Susan nodded miserably.

"And who's ever going to want a queen who can't talk the talk?" Edmund teased her gently, before leaving the room.

The centaur was waiting in the courtyard. No matter how many times Edmund saw one of these creatures, he was always in awe of their great strength and power. He recognised this one, a respectable centaur known as Thunderfoot, with a fine auburn beard and chestnut flanks.

"Your Majesty." He bowed graciously. "I come with some worrying news."

"Proceed," Edmund encouraged him.

"The stars last night told a troubling tale," Thunderfoot informed him. "They tell of evil that will come or has come or is coming as we speak. They suggest a crumbling of power, a dark force taking over."

Edmund felt a shiver run down his spine. "Can they not be more specific?" he asked.

"The stars tell it all," Thunderfoot replied. "Only we cannot always see it." He twitched suddenly. "I would suggest Your Majesties be very wary and ready for a fight."

"Is this a prophesy or merely a warning?" Edmund enquired. If it were destiny, why even bother standing up to this evil force?

"There is always the chance to change the stars, sire." The centaur gave him a knowing smile. "That is why I came so swiftly."

"Thank you." Edmund nodded gravely. "It has been most appreciated. Is there any other news?"

"Nothing of any worth." Thunderfoot shoot his head. "I shall allow Your Majesty to leave and discuss this further with your brother and sisters. It must be acted upon soon, sire, for I am sure the evil is nearly upon us, if it is not already here."

"I thank you." Edmund gave the centaur his leave and headed back up into the castle. He'd been sure there was something wrong, something didn't feel right about Narnia anymore. Now if only he could find Peter and ask his opinion on the subject…

He met his brother along the next corridor, with Emma's arm wrapped tightly around his own.

"Edmund!" Peter greeted him, smiling widely. "We've been looking for you everywhere, Susan's having to entertain the visitors all on her own!"

"There was some news I had to deal with," Edmund informed him, looking warily at Emma. Something seemed different about her, something wasn't right in her beautiful face. She was watching Peter intently, seemingly obsessively, and occasionally giving Edmund provocative glances from under her long lashes. What was it about her that was worrying Edmund so?

"News?" Peter looked business-like for the first time in days. "What sort of news?"

"I'd prefer to discuss it in private," Edmund said looking at Emma pointedly.

"Oh Ed!" Peter rolled his eyes. "Emma's as good as family now, aren't you? You can say anything in front of her."

"It's actually quite serious, Peter," Edmund said, refusing to be drawn into this. "I really think that we should go and discuss this…"

"We don't have time for these games, Edmund!" Peter sighed exasperatedly. "If it's that important, tell me now, if not, we've got important guests to entertain." He waited for his brother's reply. "Well?"

Edmund shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Okay, so maybe you can go and put on your best robes and we'll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes?" Peter suggested. "See if you can find Lucy while you're up here."

Edmund looked across at Emma as they walked away, and when he looked her directly in her green eyes he instantly knew what was so wrong with her, what had changed.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh Ed, you can't be serious!" Lucy laughed when he burst into her room, blurting out his news. "Emma? Bewitched?" She shook her head, as she brushed her hair. "You're jumping to conclusions!"

"Lucy, please," Edmund begged his little sister to listen. If anyone would believe him, it would be her. "I know it sounds crazy, but… I of all people should know what being bewitched is like. Lucy, I know what it looks like, I know the smell and taste of evil… and it's that that has been hanging around this castle for days. I didn't know what it was, I couldn't quite place it. But since speaking to Thunderfoot… it's her, Lucy, she's the evil in Narnia."

Lucy took a few seconds to digest the information. "Okay," she said slowly. "But she's been here for nearly three weeks, she comes from our world, how can she be evil?"

"She's bewitched," Edmund insisted. "She's being used for some reason. I don't know what… but this obsession with Peter… that has to be linked."

Lucy nodded. "I guess. So what are we going to do? Do you think she's dangerous?"

"Thunderfoot said the stars predicted the crumbling of power," Edmund reminded her. "That's us, Lucy. I think she's very dangerous."

"Then we've got to stop her," Lucy said decisively.

"And I've got an idea," Edmund said, proceeding to tell her.

* * *

Lucy wondered why she listened to her brother sometimes. This was a crazy idea, they were supposed to be in the Great Hall, with other royals, impressing them, and instead they were galloping madly across country after one of Edmund's "brainwaves". 

"Edmund, I really don't think this will work!" she said, not for the first time, as her bay mare drew level with his huge chestnut stallion. "Mr Tumnus doesn't do things like this, he's not like an apothecary or anything, he just knows how to mix some herbs and things up to heal cuts and bruises. He doesn't know how to sedate people!"

"He sent you to sleep once, didn't he?" Edmund reminded her.

Lucy had forgotten she'd told Edmund that; she hated it when anyone said anything nasty about her beloved Mr Tumnus. Yes, he'd made his mistakes, but Edmund was hardly flawless.

"That was different, he used his flute for that," she said. "You want him to make some sort of potion…"

"Are we nearly there yet?" Edmund demanded. His horse was panting heavily; it was a hell of a long journey from Cair Paravel up to Mr Tumnus's house. It was already dark and he knew everyone back at the castle would have missed them by now.

"You know jolly well we're not!" Lucy reminded him, as her brother pulled his horse up and let the poor thing have a break and a drink from a stream. She slipped off her own mare and let her crop at some grass nervously.

Edmund got off and walked around, the tension obvious. They were only just over halfway there, and he was aware that every second counted. He hated to think of his brother being so entranced by Emma, so overtaken by something so corrupt. The sooner they broke whatever spell there was, the better.

"Edmund, I'm really not sure Mr Tumnus will be able to help you," Lucy insisted, wishing her brother would see sense. "Can't we just turn back and tell Peter what you think?"

"Oh, come off it, Lucy!" Edmund snapped. "He wouldn't believe us, and even if he would, we couldn't get close enough to tell him without her hearing."

"You're acting like this is her fault," Lucy pointed out. "If she's that dangerous, surely we should just…"

"No!" Edmund guessed what she was going to say and interrupted. "Killing her won't end this, Lucy, we need to get to the bottom of it all." He patted his horse. "Come on, we need to get moving."

Mr Tumnus, nervous at the best of times, was highly alarmed after Edmund and Lucy had related their tale. Especially when Edmund explained why exactly they were there.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, looking at Lucy worriedly. "I really don't have any sort of potion that could help with that, that would stop the evil…"

"We don't want that." Edmund shook his head. "A sleeping potion, that's all, to give us some time to think."

"Well…" Mr Tumnus was still flustered. "I don't have anything that will send someone to sleep, I don't think, I…"

"Mr Tumnus, please." Lucy looked at him beseechingly. "There must be something."

Mr Tumnus hesitated before moving over to the bookcase and taking out a thick tome. He rifled through it to the relevant page and placed it on the table. "I've never tried it," he admitted. "It's a pretty potent concoction, it's only supposed to be used in extreme cases…"

"This _is_ an extreme case," Edmund stated bluntly.

Mr Tumnus nodded. "Okay then." He read the instructions carefully. "What weight would you say the recipient is?"

"I don't know, about the same as Lucy, wouldn't you say, Lu?" Edmund frowned. "Is that really important?"

Mr Tumnus nodded. "It's all about dosage… too much and it could…" He tailed off and nodded again. "About the same as Lucy… we'll underdose it just in case."

He pottered around, putting things into a large pot, occasionally mixing it in. Finally he placed the whole pot over the fire.

"It needs to simmer for an hour," he informed them. Lucy was nearly asleep by now, and even Edmund looked tired. "Can I interest you in any tea?"

"That would be lovely!" Lucy nodded eagerly.

"Is there no way we can speed it all up?" Edmund asked anxiously, looking into the pot.

"No way, sire," Mr Tumnus shook his head.

"Then I suppose so," Edmund agreed reluctantly.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter was so angry. How could Edmund and Lucy have wandered off like that, after he'd specifically told Edmund to come downstairs? They'd been gone all night, their beds not slept in, and now he'd been informed they just walked in as if nothing had happened. He wasn't standing for it!

Edmund came in, looking sheepish, it had to be said, as well as extremely tired.

"I hope you've got a good excuse!" Peter said the minute he laid eyes on his brother. "Where's Lucy?"

"She'll be in in a second," Edmund lied. Lucy had hurried off to find some way of giving Emma the mixture without her realising. He hated leaving it to his little sister to do it, but he knew she'd manage it far better than he could.

"I asked to see her and you," Peter reminded him crossly.

"We're not little kids, Peter," Edmund retorted irritably. "We don't have to come when you call. She's really tired…"

"Because you dragged her out all night!" Peter snapped. "What were you thinking, Edmund? We had important visitors here, and half the kings and queens in Narnia couldn't be bothered to meet them! What does that say about us?"

"Well you had Susan and Emma," Edmund pointed out, with more than a little sarcasm.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter asked.

"Oh, Peter, please tell me you've worked it out by now!" Edmund exclaimed. He was certain his older brother would have realised what it was that was so wrong with Emma. "You can't be that stupid!"

"What are you on about?" Peter demanded.

"Emma!" Edmund growled.

"Oh shut up!" Peter suddenly flipped. "What is your problem, Ed? Susan agrees with me, you've been acting so strangely lately, and we both think it's got something to do with Emma. Are you jealous or something?"

"Of what?" Edmund was completely wrong-footed. "What could I be jealous of?"

"Me and Emma," Peter replied. "Are you jealous that she's interested in me and not you?"

"What?" Edmund cried. "Peter, you have no idea what you are talking about! Have you not realised why she's so obsessed with you? Why she's suddenly so keen on being with you and everything?"

"She's in love with me!"

"She's bewitched!" Edmund shouted.

Peter sat down heavily in the chair behind him and stared at his younger brother in shock. "Don't be silly," he said in a much softer voice than before.

"I'm not." Edmund was also much quieter now. "But I'm not lying. Emma is under some sort of spell, Peter. She's working for the other side now."

* * *

The four Pevensies sat round the table in silence, all unable to touch their food. Lucy was exhausted, but was determined not to show it. Edmund's limbs were all aching, but his mind was working overtime. Peter and Susan were both in complete shock.

Finally Susan spoke. "I can't believe you two didn't tell us about this. Whatever happened to us making joint decisions?"

"There wasn't time," Edmund said calmly now. "After what the centaur had told us we couldn't afford to waste anymore time. I only told Lucy because I needed her help."

"You should have told me," Peter said heavily. "I'm the High King, I should have dealt with this."

"You can't deal with everything, Peter," Edmund said gently. "You were too involved, something had to be done immediately, without raising any suspicions. We did it."

Lucy eventually said what they were all thinking. "What now though?"

Susan sighed. "Exactly. How long will that potion last for, did Mr Tumnus say?"

"It depends." Edmund shrugged. "It all depends on the dosage. If it was too weak, not long, but if it was too strong…" He shook his head. "A day at the most."

"That doesn't give us much time," Susan remarked. "We need to make a decision now about what we're going to do." It was unusual for her to take charge, but she seemed to be the only one with the strength left to do it. She looked round at them. "Does anyone have any suggestions?"

There was silence for a long time, before anyone spoke.

"Kill her," Peter said finally, and very forcefully. All the others looked up from their own thoughts in shock. He immediately looked awkward. "Well what else can we do? She's going to wake up again, and we can't remove whatever spell it is that she's under… she'll be just as dangerous when she wakes up as she was before. What choice do we have?"

"We can't kill her," Edmund said in clipped tones.

"Ed, I know she's our friend," Susan said diplomatically. "And she is… was… a nice girl. But think about this for a minute. She's not Emma anymore, she let herself be taken over. I agree with Peter, she put us and Narnia in danger." She waited for her younger brother's response.

He looked up from the table, and to everyone's horror he had tears in his eyes. "_I_ put Narnia in danger, remember? Do you think I should have been killed then?"

"Oh Ed, that's different!" Lucy protested.

"How is that different?" Edmund demanded. "I _let _myself be bewitched, though I assure you, Susan, there's no voluntary action on the bewitched's part. I suppose you think then, Peter, that I should have been killed by the White Witch after all. That Aslan was wrong for ever saving me."

"Edmund you know I don't!" Peter insisted.

"Then why can't you give Emma some support here?" Edmund stood up, impassioned and tearful. "She's just the same as I was, don't you see that? We can't just kill her!"

"Then what do we do?" Peter asked.

"We wait," Edmund said quietly. "What other choice do we have?"


	9. Chapter 9

Talking about waiting was far easier than doing it, as they all soon found out. Peter refused to cancel the banquet.

"We can't let anyone know about this," he insisted. "The show goes on."

Edmund had retired to his room after his outburst earlier, but that evening found him in Emma's room, looking at her sleeping. She didn't look peaceful, he thought, she looked like even now she was being tormented by a thousand devils, forcing her to do things she'd never normally do. Why had she been sent here? Surely Aslan would never allow someone from their world to enter Narnia in order to be the world's downfall? Something had got at her from within the country, she hadn't been evil when she arrived.

_Aslan, please, do something! You saved me before, save her now! If you won't do it for her, do it for Narnia, do it for Peter. He'll never forgive himself if Narnia is put in danger because of him. We can't do this alone, Aslan!_

He sighed heavily as no reply seemed to come to his prayer. Maybe he was overreacting, maybe Emma had never been dangerous at all. Maybe he was just jealous like Peter had suggested. God knew, he'd felt jealous enough of Peter in the past, but this time? He'd felt fear for the first time since those days in Narnia before Peter had become High King and Aslan had set everything right. Seven years ago, and the last few days had made it all seem like yesterday. But he couldn't work out exactly what he was so afraid of: the new threat to Narnia, to his brother and sisters, or his own sudden feelings for Emma.

"Edmund?" Susan appeared at the open doorway. She looked stunning at usual, in a brand new gown. She entered the room and looked down at the other girl. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know." Edmund shrugged awkwardly. "I thought she might look peaceful now, but she just looks…"

"Ill." Susan found herself touching Emma's forehead, despite her fear of anything magical. "She's awfully hot. Maybe we should get someone to sit with her whilst we're downstairs." She looked to her brother for some help making a decision. "Do you think?"

"Oh I don't know." Edmund sighed heavily. "Why don't you ask Peter, apparently any decision I make is wrong."

"Oh Ed!" Susan touched his shoulder gingerly. "He's just upset and angry with himself. You know how he thinks he should be in charge all the time…"

"I know," Edmund agreed reluctantly. "Will he ever realise that he doesn't always have to be the older brother?"

"No." Susan shook her head, and ruffled her brother's hair affectionately. "And you wouldn't want him to. Come on, we've got to go downstairs for a bit. I'll ask someone to sit with her."


	10. Chapter 10

The banquet was a disaster, Peter wished he'd cancelled it. No one there could have failed to sense the atmosphere in the castle that night. Susan, to her credit, attempted to carry the show; Peter had once thought his sister was far too keen on these social events and approached them with far more enthusiasm than anything else, but tonight she'd done what no one else could. She'd managed to act like there was nothing wrong. Lucy was struggling against falling asleep; even if she was fifteen, she needed to sleep at some point.

Finally the last guest retired to their chamber in the castle, and the castle gates were locked.

"And bolt them," Peter ordered the guards, two particularly strong centaurs. They looked alarmed; the castle gates were never bolted. Peter didn't care, he wasn't going to make any more mistakes.

Susan joined her older brother downstairs. "Peter, you've done everything you can," she said softly. "Go to bed."

Peter ignored her last comment. "Where's Lucy?"

"Gone to bed," Susan replied. "Leave her alone, Peter, if you go in, she'll wake up. She's safe."

"And Edmund?" Peter asked.

"He's with Emma," Susan informed him. "There's no point going and dragging him out, Peter, he's determined to stay in there."

"But she'll wake up soon, she'll…"

"I don't think she will." Susan shook her head. "She doesn't look at all well, Peter, I think there's something really wrong with her."

"What can we do?" Peter asked helplessly. If only Aslan would help, if only he'd come and get them out of this hole. They hadn't seen him for seven years, there'd been rumours of sightings in the Lone Islands, but nothing confirmed. Peter had never asked for his help since they'd defeated the White Witch together. Was once in seven years too much to ask?

"If Aslan thought we needed his help, he'd be here," Susan said suddenly, as if she could read his thoughts. She put an arm around her brother's shoulders. "Come on, you need to go to bed."

"But…"

"Peter!" Susan warned him. "You're not in charge tonight. Go to bed." She pushed him towards the stairs. "I'll make sure Edmund goes to bed."

* * *

Edmund awoke with a start and lifted his head up off his arms. Emma was fitting, or she seemed to be. She was twitching like a dog he'd once seen back home in our world, a dog his mother had hurried him away from. Her face was contorted in agony and she was tossing and turning. She looked in real pain. 

She was mumbling too, random sounds that made no sense. Fresh sweat had broken out across her forehead and her blonde hair was sticking to it. Edmund was at a loss over what to do. Never had he seen someone in such an awful state. He'd never nursed anyone, Susan was the best at that kind of thing. Could he really go and wake her up?

"Ed?" The door opened and a bleary-eyed Susan stumbled in. Compared to how she'd looked that night at the banquet, she looked years younger, almost like the old Susan. Since being in Narnia she'd managed to shake off some of her old anxious nature, but it had come back over the last day. The only difference now was that Edmund was looking down on her instead of up.

"I couldn't sleep," she said in explanation. She looked at the restless Emma. "How long has she been like this?"

"A few minutes." Edmund shook his head. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Susan replied. "Maybe the dosage in that potion was too much. Maybe she's…"

"This is my fault!" Edmund exclaimed.

"Oh Ed, no!" Susan wrapped her arms around her taller younger brother. "Ed, please listen, you did what you could. You tried to protect us, you tried to protect Narnia. You didn't know what else to do. For goodness sake, Edmund, you're only seventeen!"

"Maybe we should kill her now," Edmund suggested miserably. "Put her out of this torture."

"You don't mean that." Susan wiped the tears off his face. "This could be anything, maybe it's how the potion works. Of course, you didn't hang around long enough for Mr Tumnus to tell you did you?" she teased. "What is it about you and Peter, you both need to stop blaming yourselves so much! What's done is done."

"I wish Aslan would come," Edmund said after a long period of silence.

"I know," Susan agreed. "Me too." She brushed another tear off his cheek. "Please go to bed, you need to sleep."

"But I want to stay here," Edmund protested.

"I'm pulling rank," Susan said firmly. "I'm older and therefore wiser. You're going to bed."

Edmund knew when his sister meant it. He looked at Emma wistfully.

"I'll sit with her," Susan insisted. "Go."

He left reluctantly. Susan sighed and sat down in the chair by the bed. This was unfair, they couldn't deal with something like this. Peter, only just twenty, had played at being king since he was thirteen but now he was in over his head. Edmund, still trying to impress his big brother and prove he was good enough to be king, was going to kill himself with guilt one day. Lucy, only fifteen, had spent nearly as long as queen of Narnia as she had as Lucy Pevensie in England. And Susan herself; she was tiring of being mother to them all. She wanted her own mother back. It was only occasionally that she even allowed herself to remember their past life because it hurt so much. Seven years had passed; seven years since she'd seen her mother. They must have noticed they were gone by now. What must they think had happened that day in the Professor's house for them all to disappear? How would they ever explain if they ever got back?

Emma made another noise, but this time Susan could distinguish the sounds. "I'm…. sorry!" Emma almost sobbed in her fitful slumber.

"Aren't we all?" Susan said softly, as tears silently ran down her face.


	11. Chapter 11

Waking up was like coming up from the bottom of the swimming pool: it made you feel horrifically sick. Emma could feel all the blood rushing through her ears, and for the first time ever, she was aware of her own heart beating strong and loudly. She'd never even stopped to question her existence before, and now suddenly she could feel every organ in her body working how it was supposed to. Then in a sudden rush, she was conscious.

She opened her eyes and the sun hurt them. She closed them again and rolled over. Her pillows were damp and her hair was knotted and greasy. Her nightshirt stuck to her, like she'd been sweating a lot. And yet even though she felt disgusting and dirty, she somehow felt clean too, as though a weight had been lifted from her. She couldn't think what it was.

She attempted opening her eyes again. She blinked a few times to try and get them into focus. She looked at the figure standing by the window, looking out. He looked very grave and serious, far more so than the last time she'd seen him. He looked older and more world-weary somehow, but more handsome and noble than ever. She decided to test her voice out.

"Edmund?" she said, weakly, but audibly. He turned and looked at her, half in delight, she thought, but a look of fear passed over his face too.

He didn't reply, but instead crossed the room and left, before returning with a servant.

"A bath and a change of clothes," he instructed the girl. "And then some food."

"Yes sire." The girl curtsied and then Edmund was gone. Emma wondered what had happened to make him so afraid of her.

* * *

"She seems cured," Susan declared later that day.

"And since when did you become the expert?" Peter asked, with far more nastiness than usual. He was tired, Susan reminded herself, he always got irritable when he was tired.

"I'm just saying, she seems more normal again." Susan remained calm.

"Not that we noticed when she wasn't normal," Peter remarked.

"Well Edmund did." Susan turned to her other brother. "What do you think, Ed?"

Edmund nodded. "She does seem back to her old self." Her eyes, though still that unusual green, were calmer and her pupils smaller. Her movements were more hesitant again, more graceful and less thought out. Even the way she spoke was softer. And she looked exhausted, as though all her energy had been drained.

"But how?" Peter asked. He couldn't get his head around that; she'd just slept and then woken up disenchanted. That was impossible. "How has she become herself again?"

"Maybe we'll never know," Susan suggested. She wanted the whole business sorted out so Emma could leave and go home again. Her arrival had caused too much upset.

"But we need to!" Peter insisted. "If we don't know, how will we ever solve another problem like this?"

"By killing them, probably," Edmund suggested pointedly.

Peter looked at his brother apologetically. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"I know." Edmund nodded. "I've got an idea how Emma's back to her old self again. But I'm going to talk to her first, see what she can tell me. She must have some idea."

Peter nodded reluctantly. "Okay. But remember we don't know if she's well again. So be careful."

* * *

Seeing as Edmund had all but avoided her since she woke up after her "illness", Emma was surprised when he suggested they go for a walk on the beach. It was what she'd wanted to do since she'd arrived here, of course, go for a long walk along that beautiful endless expanse of sand. How jealous would Amber be if she could see it! This beat Spain hands down!

Emma walked in the shallows of the sea, enjoying the feeling of the sand squidging between her toes. The bottom of the dress she'd borrowed from Lucy was getting soaked, but that was to be expected on the beach. Emma didn't let it trouble her too much.

Edmund watched her for a while, not saying anything. She looked the picture of health again, pink cheeks and sparkling eyes. Her hair was tumbling over her shoulders as ever, and glinted golden in the sunlight. She really was very pretty.

Emma caught him looking and looked over with a challenging smile. "What's up?" she asked. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"I don't"," Edmund felt his neck begin to burn and he prayed the redness wouldn't spread across his face like it used to when he was younger. "I was just thinking how nice it was to see you looking so well again."

"I feel great." Emma nodded, grinning. She turned away to look out to sea. Obviously no one knew about her betrayal, they just thought she'd been ill. Maybe she could keep it that way… A wave suddenly lapped against her much harder than any of the others. She jumped out of the water instinctively.

"What's wrong?" Edmund frowned.

"Nothing." Emma shook her head firmly. "Just a larger than usual wave."

They continued walking along. Eventually, Emma couldn't resist it any longer and asked the question that had been threatening to spill out since they'd begun this walk.

"Edmund, why have you been avoiding me?"

"I didn't know I had," he lied.

"You have. You've walked out of every room I've walked into since I woke up."

"It's been very busy around the castle," Edmund replied, trying to brush it off. Maybe Emma herself had no idea what had happened to her. Maybe this was a stupid idea.

"Has it?" Emma sounded doubtful. She finally plucked up the courage to say, "Edmund, are you afraid of me?"

"What?" Edmund looked surprised. "Me? I… no."

"You're lying," Emma said softly.

"I'm not!" Edmund protested. "I could have your head chopped off for that you know! Insulting the king! That's tantamount to treason!" He grinned to show he was teasing.

Emma flinched at the word treason and she knew it. Meeting his eyes, she knew she looked guilty as hell. But instead of looking surprised, Edmund instead looked… understanding?

"I know what you did, Emma," he said gently. "We all do."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Emma faked indifference, and threw a stone along the beach.

"It wasn't your fault," Edmund continued. "You can't blame yourself, Emma, you've nothing to feel guilty for."

"I know, I don't." Emma was determined not to drop her act. "I was ill, that was all, I couldn't help that! It's not like I…"

"Was part of a plot to destroy Narnia as we know it?" Edmund interrupted her.

Emma met his eye again and she knew the game was up.

"I know you must hate me," she said quietly. "You all must, especially Peter. I can't believe I'd do something so bad, I wasn't aware I was doing it until afterwards. I mean that's no excuse, I still tried to… to…"

"It's okay," Edmund insisted. "You don't need to feel guilty."

"But I tried to destroy your family!" Emma cried. "I tried to destroy Narnia! Of course I feel guilty! I deserve to die, Edmund, for what I've done! It's treason! I'm a traitor to this country!"

"I know," Edmund agreed. "Emma, believe me, I know exactly how you feel…"

"How?" Emma demanded, "How can you possibly know how guilty and remorseful and disgusted with myself I am? You can't, you can't possibly know!"

"When I first came to Narnia, I betrayed my whole family and nearly destroyed Narnia forever," Edmund said, surprisingly calmly compared to how he felt.

"What?" Emma looked at him incredulously, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Edmund sighed. "I think it's probably time I explained a few things, Emma."


	12. Chapter 12

Emma leaned back against the smooth rock. It was warm and somehow seemed to fit perfectly against her back. Edmund was stretched out on the sand next to her, staring out across the endless expanse of sea. Without once looking at her, he'd told her his whole guilty story.

"It was so long ago," he said, in the same quiet intense voice he'd used the whole time. "I was just a kid, but it's stayed with me. Part of me wonders if I'll ever move on from it."

In Emma's eyes Edmund had suddenly changed, become younger somehow. He was only seventeen, a year older than her! He wasn't Edmund, King, anymore, but just another boy, no more special than she was. He'd made the same mistakes as her.

"It must be awful to see your family everyday and think what could have happened to them," Emma remarked, thinking of how hard it had been for her to act as normal around them all. When her memory had returned and she'd remembered all that had happened she'd been so ashamed she'd locked herself in her room for the whole day, telling people she felt really tired. How could she ever face them all again?

Edmund frowned in deep thought. "It's not that bad," he replied slowly. "I know they've forgiven me. No, facing them wasn't the worst bit."

"What was?" Emma asked curiously.

"Facing Aslan." Edmund nodded decisively. "That was the absolute worst part." He looked round. "What's wrong?" he asked, because as he had spoken Emma had given an involuntary gasp. She was suddenly very pale and she looked like she'd seen a ghost. Edmund knew suddenly what it was and he turned to face her fully.

"You've seen Aslan, haven't you?" he said in a near whisper. Emma was still too stunned to reply and merely nodded. Edmund moved closer to her instinctively. "It was when you were asleep, wasn't it? When you were having those bad dreams?"

"I guess," Emma replied. "I… I didn't know who or what he was, it was just this feeling, this… I don't know, a voice I could hear. But when you said that name… _Aslan_… it was like I'd always known, like…"

"I know," Edmund agreed, seeing the pain at remembering on her face. "It's… it's not easy." Now he understood what had happened; Aslan had saved them all again, without their even knowing it. He felt momentarily guilty for ever doubting him; Aslan had never let them down before.

"He said I was forgiven," Emma was telling him, her voice hesitant and tiny. "That… that no harm was done, and that no one would ever blame me. But it was so awful at the same time, admitting it all… I guess I must have blocked it all out afterwards, or he must have made me forget or something. I don't know." She shook her head.

Edmund reached and touched her hand. "Well, if Aslan can see fit to forgive you, I'm sure no one else will have any trouble."

* * *

Peter watched his younger brother walking along the beach, his hand barely touching the girl next to him. Something about his posture had changed in the last few days, it was like he'd become the man he always should have been.

"They do make a nice couple," Susan remarked, following his gaze. She checked her older brother's reaction to her statement. She couldn't help feeling apprehensive about Edmund's sudden new interest in Emma; how could they ever be sure she was safe? She claimed to have seen Aslan, but maybe she'd just made it up, maybe she was faking all along. She was reluctant to let her younger brother just lose himself like this.

"I suppose," Peter agreed. He turned away from the window. "He's not spending much time on his duties though. He does still have a country to run, after all."

"Peter, you're not… you're not jealous are you?" Susan asked him.

"Of what?"

"Well… Edmund and Emma and…" Susan shrugged.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "You think I'm jealous of my little brother finding a new friend?" He smiled. "Don't be stupid. I just think he's neglecting his responsibilities."

"He is only seventeen," Susan reminded him gently. "He's…"

"Too young to be acting like _this_ over a girl!" Peter said, suddenly bitter. "He's barely more than a child, Mother and Father would be disgusted!"

"But he's old enough to be king?" Susan pointed out the flaw in his argument. "And anyway, Mother and Father aren't here."

"No, I know." Peter recognised the pain on his sister's face. "I'm sorry, Su, I just…"

"It's alright." Susan shook her head, wanting to get away from her brother suddenly. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me."

* * *

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Ryan out of The OC?" Emma asked Edmund, her head in his lap.

"Like who out of what?" Edmund looked down at her in complete confusion.

"Oh yeah, I forgot!" Emma laughed. "Sorry, it's a television programme. I guess you wouldn't have seen it."

Edmund smiled, and stroked her long blonde hair. "Not exactly. We don't really get television much back home."

Emma sighed. "It's weird. Us both being here, together, but back in our world we'd be…"

"Generations apart," Edmund concluded. "I'm fifty-eight years older than you."

"That's disgusting!" Emma giggled, pulling a face. "I prefer to think of it as a year!"

They both laughed.

"Come on, I want to hear about your life," Edmund encouraged her. "You were born when?"

"Nineteen eighty-eight," Emma replied. "I've got an older brother and sister. My parents got divorced when I was ten…"

"Divorced?" Edmund yelped, amazed. No one from his time had got divorced, apart from Uncle Roger and it was well known that he was an eccentric.

"Yes, divorced!" Emma laughed. "It's really not a big deal nowadays. All of my friends parents' are divorced. Some are even divorced twice!"

Edmund shook his head. "That's incredible. Doesn't it upset you? I mean, when my father went away to war, I… well to be honest I became a right brat."

Emma shook her head. "No, not really. It's not like I don't see him. They started off sharing custody, you know, one week at my dad's, one week at my mum's. But that was so knackering… sorry, I mean, exhausting, that I guess even my dad could see that we couldn't keep it up. So I live with my mum, but Dad only lives like two bus stops away and he gets to take me on holiday every summer… well, to the Lake District, if that counts as a holiday!"

"I liked the Lake District," Edmund said thoughtfully. "We went a few years before we were evacuated. Last holiday we had all together in fact."

"It's nothing on this place though, is it?" Emma pointed out, looking out across the rolling hills all around them. "This is… this is like something else."

Edmund knew she was right. He'd never exactly taken Narnia for granted, it wasn't as though he'd started ignoring the country for all its wonderful qualities. It was just that when someone had lived in the same place for so long, it became almost second nature to not marvel at it every single day. But spending time with Emma, seeing things for the first time like her… it was like he'd only just stepped into Narnia again. It was like he was the ten-year-old boy he'd been when they'd first stumbled through that wardrobe.


	13. Chapter 13

Emma shut her chamber door and looked down at her mud-splattered outfit ruefully. She knew Lucy wouldn't really mind, but sooner or later she had to get some clothes of her own here. She couldn't keep borrowing the other girl's clothes. Or her horse for that matter. The bay mare was lovely, but she was Lucy's. It somehow felt wrong to be borrowing so much off of Edmund's sister. And anyway, if she was going to stay here, she needed her own things.

She took the dress off and selected a new and more formal outfit for dinner that evening. She ran her hands through her honey-blonde hair, which was gradually being bleached lighter by the daily bright sun. The wind was getting up tonight though, she thought, as the small window in one corner of her chamber rattled in its frame. She walked over to pull it more securely closed. As she pulled it shut she felt a stabbing pain in her side, like someone had put in a knife and was twisting it. She caught hold of the window frame and held onto it, blinking back tears and breathing heavily. Gradually, the pain subsided, becoming a dull ache and then disappearing altogether. It took several minutes for Emma to be confident enough to move again though. She wobbled over towards her dressing table and sat down. She looked at her herself in the mirror; she looked dreadful. Her face had suddenly paled under its tan and her face looked drawn. She wished she had her trusty make-up bag here, like she did at home… Home.

A bolt of fear shot through Emma as she looked in the mirror again. There was a fleeting glimpse of a face, a terrible and beautiful face, one she was certain she'd seen before but couldn't place. At the same time she felt a warm breath on her neck and heard a deep rumble like thunder. She leapt back from the mirror, finding her feet again, and grabbed her borrowed robe, before leaving the room.

* * *

Lucy followed her elder sister up to her bedchamber that night. Susan was more than a little surprised; it had been a long time since the two sisters had been that close. In fact, the last time they'd shared a room had been back home in London.

"What's wrong, Lu?" she asked now, as she removed her outer robe and began tying her black hair up.

Lucy shrugged as she stood awkwardly, looking through Susan's jewellery box. Her older sister had so much jewellery, brought by ambassadors from various countries when they visited. Somehow Lucy always seemed to be forgotten by those men.

"Don't shrug, Lucy, it's not becoming," Susan reprimanded her automatically and immediately wished she hadn't. She knew she was forever being the bossy elder sister, the boring and proper mother-figure, and she hated it, but she didn't know how else to be. Someone needed to remind Edmund and Lucy to eat their vegetables, and go to bed at a reasonable time and someone had to take charge of the domestic staff. It wasn't as if Peter was volunteering for that job.

Lucy stifled the urge to stick her tongue out. "I was just wondering…"

"Yes," Susan said too quickly and sharply.

"It doesn't matter," Lucy replied instantly, before leaving the room.

"Oh, Lucy, wait!" Susan called after her. Too softly and too late.

* * *

Peter watched out the window as his brother and their guest took the horses out yet again. They galloped off up the beach, Emma's long blonde hair streaking out behind her. The horses attacked the path up off the beach onto the cliff top, and shortly afterwards, Peter could see them no longer.

He sighed heavily and tried to get his mind back onto the mound of paperwork in front of him. There were so many letters from various parts of the kingdom, treaties to deal with, invitations to answer. And Edmund hadn't even asked if he needed any help.

The door opened. Lucy came in, carrying a tray precariously.

"I thought you might want some tea," she said, smiling prettily.

Peter smiled back. "Thanks, Lu. You're right, as usual." He cleared a bit of space on the desk, mainly by pushing a pile of papers to the floor. Lucy set the tray down.

"It's a mess in here," she remarked, stacking the papers more neatly. She looked at the top sheet of paper. "Peter, this one's been sitting here for nearly a month!" she exclaimed. "Shouldn't it have been dealt with already?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, probably."

Lucy skim read the sheet. She looked up at her brother, frowning. "This is Edmund's paperwork," she said. "Peter, what are you doing with it?"

Peter looked at his sister pointedly. "Why do you think?" he asked.

Lucy sighed. She leafed through a few more pages of work. "They're all addressed to Edmund. Peter, you need to tell him, he needs to do some work."

"He won't pay any attention." Peter shook his head. "He's too busy entertaining her."

Lucy hesitated before saying, "Do you think she'll be here forever?"

Peter sighed. "I don't know. It looks like it." He looked at his sister. "Is that a problem, do you think?"

Lucy bit her lip. "I… I don't know. I mean, if Edmund's going to ignore all the work…"

Peter nodded. "I think maybe it's time she left."


	14. Chapter 14

Emma enjoyed this kind of thing, just letting the horses amble lazily side by side in companionable silence. Edmund looked so natural in the saddle, holding the reins in one hand, his chestnut stallion alert and muscular. Lucy's mare was sweet enough, but she still desperately wanted her own horse. Especially if she was going to be staying…

"Ouch!" She winced as the sharp pain in her side returned.

"What's wrong?" Edmund halted his horse and turned round in the saddle, looking concerned.

Emma faked a bright smile. "Just a bit of stitch I guess. You're wearing me out with all these long rides!" She gritted her teeth as another pain hit her on the other side. "It's gone now," she lied.

Edmund looked doubtful, but let his horse continue on, the wind lightly ruffling his sandy blonde hair. Emma followed at a slower pace, not having the energy or inclination to nudge her horse on as much.

They continued in silence for a few more minutes. Then Emma's horse stopped abruptly, her ears pricked and nostrils flared. Edmund's horse did the same, and shied violently sideways.

"Hey steady!" Edmund exclaimed, looking to see what had spooked them both. His jaw dropped.

"Oh my God!" Emma said softly, staring too. A shiver ran down her spine, and her stomach churned.

Edmund, to her horror, slipped off his horse, his eyes never once leaving what he saw. It was as though he were… bewitched.

"Edmund, what are you doing?" she hissed, watching anxiously to see if the creature had noticed them. Of course it had, they were the only people for miles around on this bare plain. If only they'd headed for woodland instead, they'd have had so much more cover.

Edmund didn't reply, he was instead leading his horse towards the creature. Instead of baulking, as Emma would have expected the stallion to, do, he followed his master willingly.

"Edmund!" Emma called again, wanting to turn her own horse around immediately and ride as fast as she could away from this place.

Edmund turned back to her. "What?" he asked, frowning. "What's wrong?"

Emma was becoming exasperated with him. "Edmund! You're walking straight towards a…"

"I know." Edmund broke into a wide grin as he turned back to look at the creature. "It's Aslan, Emma. He's come again." He reached out for Emma's horse's reins. "Come on."

Emma avoided meeting the great Lion's eyes. Something in his great noble face was terrifying her; she had a dreadful sense of foreboding.

When Edmund finally came to a stop in front of the lion, Emma hesitantly slipped off the horse and joined him on the ground. It was like waiting for an age for something to happen. Finally, the lion spoke, his voice deep and rumbling, sending vibrations up Emma's legs and into her stomach. The horses twitched uneasily at the noise, but didn't make any effort to bolt.

"Edmund, my son," he said in a kindly tone. Emma could feel his warm breath on her face. "And Emma, I trust you are enjoying your stay in Narnia?"

Emma nodded dumbly. She'd suddenly remembered her actions on first arriving in Narnia and how she'd first encountered Aslan.

"Your actions, though misguided, were not all of your doing," Aslan continued. "They are forgiven and must be forgotten."

Emma looked up at his golden face for the first time. "But sir, I… I feel as though I should repay you in some way for what I've done, I…"

"And you shall, one day," Aslan agreed. "But now is not the time for repaying or for recriminations, but goodbyes."

Edmund frowned. "What? But Aslan, you only just got here, you haven't seen my brother or sisters yet or…"

"I did not mean goodbye to me," Aslan said softly. "I meant time for Emma to bid you goodbye."

Emma felt something inside her twist violently. The ground had all but dropped away beneath her feet and she felt horrifically lost.

"Goodbye?" Edmund looked at her still utterly confused. "But where is she going?"

"It is time for her to return to her own world," Aslan said. "She has been gone long enough."

"But I don't want to!" Emma exclaimed, feeling panic rise up in her. "I like it here! Please, I don't want to go back!"

"There are many things we do not want to do." Aslan was unruffled. "And yet we must."

Emma looked at Edmund desperately. "But I belong here! I… What about…?"

"She can't go, Aslan." Edmund tried to make sense of what they were being told. "We need her here." His eyes met hers. "I need her here."

"And yet there are others who disagree," Aslan said matter-of-factly. "There are others who would suggest that Emma's presence here is of great detriment to your abilities to rule as king. It is true, isn't it, that since Emma's arrival, you have somewhat neglected not only your brother and sisters, but your duties to Narnia itself."

Edmund knew it was true. He nodded. "I suppose. But that can change, she doesn't have to go!"

"It is time," Aslan said in reply. He turned back to Emma. "You must return to your own world now."

"Now?" Emma's jaw dropped. "But I haven't said goodbye, I haven't…" She turned to face the lion. "I will see Edmund again won't I?"

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Emma exclaimed.

"Aslan, please," Edmund pleaded. "You must be able to tell us if we shall ever meet again or not."

There was a heavy pause. "The two of you shall meet one day in the future," Aslan decreed finally. "When you next meet in Narnia you may stay, the both of you."

Emma felt a slight hope rise. "Then I shall be back sir?"

"Of course." Aslan sounded mildly amused, though Emma could never have imagined that solemn face breaking into a smile. "Though it may not be how you expected, my child." He rose to his great paws. "And now it is time."

Emma felt it had come far too soon. She turned to Edmund. "I… I guess this is it then," she said in a small voice. There was so much she wanted to say but she couldn't get the words out, couldn't even think of the words that would say what she wanted. She looked at Edmund. His Adam's apple was quivering and his eyes had taken on a strangely glassy appearance.

"Yeah." He nodded. He gingerly reached out a hand to take hers and pulled her towards him. Emma found herself being dragged into his embrace but she never felt the full warmth. Instead she found herself clutching at nothing as Edmund and Aslan and Narnia all disappeared. There was a bright light that hurt her eyes and she wanted to scream but no sound would come out. She shut her eyes and found herself falling…

* * *

Edmund stared at the spot where Emma had been. He could still feel the warmth of her fingertips on his, and the grass was still trampled where she'd stood. He was staring so intensely that it took him a full five minutes to realise that Aslan too had gone. He was standing alone with the two horses, all three transfixed by what they'd seen. Eventually Edmund swung himself back into the saddle, picked up the reins of the bay mare and they walked slowly back to Cair Paravel. 


	15. Chapter 15

Finally hitting something solid, Emma gave a deep intake of breath. She felt winded and she jerked herself out of the semi-conscious reverie and opened her eyes. The room was painfully white and she blinked several times. The smell hit her first, the clinical artificial smell. Then she found herself being surrounded by faces, familiar faces.

"Emma?" The woman looked older than Emma had remembered her, her wispy blonde hair darkening at the roots and looking unkempt. Her face was stripped of make-up.

"Emma, sweetheart, it's us!" A man joined in from the other side. There was stubble on his chin, and not designer stubble either. This was accidental, not-enough-time-to-shave stubble.

"Get the doctor, Alex!" the woman ordered him.

"Hold on." The man sounded calmer. Emma felt her head start to swim as memories flooded back. Her head hurt.

"I will not hold on!" the woman hissed at him. "My little girl has been unconscious for four weeks, Alex! Get the doctor!"

Emma finally forced some words out. "Mum?"

The woman looked back at her. "Emma? Oh sweetheart, it's alright, you're fine. You're in hospital andyourdadwas just getting the doctor, weren't you?" She shot him a triumphant look.

Emma could feel the tension in the room. She managed to muster up enough energy to say, "Dad? What's happened?"

* * *

It was like being ten again. Emma wished she could have stayed in hospital longer as she sat at the top of the stairs, her arms wrapped around her legs, leaning her head up against the banisters. Even from here, she could barely hear the words of her parents' argument, just a general noise; they'd become so adept at arguing in all but the quietest of whispers. She knew she could stop it if she went downstairs and walked into the living room, but she couldn't bring herself to do that.

It had been a week since she'd come back. She'd wondered how she was going to explain her absence to her family and friends, but it seemed that was taken care of. Her accident had apparently caused widespread traffic jams up and down Oxford Street that had lasted several hours. It was a miracle she wasn't more seriously harmed. The bump on her head and a few nasty cuts and bruises down her left side, one of which had needed surgery, were all that she had to show for it. She'd been let out three days ago, when the doctors had been satisfied that there was no brain damage.

Emma didn't know why her parents had started arguing again. Her father had yet another new girlfriend from the sounds of it, one he hadn't introduced either Emma or her brother or sister to. She'd spent some of the past month at the hospital with him; obviously more of a keeper than Alison from last year.

A door on the landing opened. Emma jumped and bumped her head.

"What are you doing there?" Liam, her older brother, asked, looking down at his little sister. "That's a really dumb place to sit, Em."

"I know," Emma agreed in a small voice, as there came a loud crash from the living room. She looked up in alarm at Liam.

"It'll be nothing," Liam insisted, shrugging in mock nonchalance. "Just Dad being clumsy as usual."

The door to the living room flew open. Emma instinctively pulled herself back behind the banister post, making herself as inconspicuous as possible.

"That's right, run off, as usual!" she heard her mother taunt in a childish voice. "Leave me here bringing up your children!"

Emma could hear the weariness in her father's voice. "Carol, you know I'm not running off. You clearly don't want me here at the moment…"

"I never said that!"

"You've made it obvious." Alex sighed. "We shouldn't be arguing, we should be glad that Emma's alright…"

"Alright? You call that alright!" Carol demanded, her voice rising up a decibel. "You call her talking about lions and talking unicorns and magical faraway lands _alright_?"

Emma jerked her head up and looked at Liam for a reply. He looked awkward, something Liam never looked.

"The doctors are satisfied with her progress," Alex said patiently. "She had a lot of drugs in her system, she was delirious. I really think you're being unfair…"

"Oh turn it round on me as usual!" Carol snapped. Emma could identify with her father as she heard the front door slam shut behind him. She sometimes wished she could walk out too.

Liam stepped over her. "I guess I better go and check Mum's okay," he sighed heavily.

"Liam." Emma stopped him momentarily. "What Mum said… did I really say all that?"

Liam pulled a face and nodded reluctantly. "But I shouldn't worry about it, Em, like Dad said, you were delirious. And no one will ever know what you said. So don't feel stupid."

"But it's true," Emma blurted out without being able to stop herself. "It's… it's all true."

Liam frowned, but continued downstairs without another word.

* * *

"And you will never _believe_ who text me yesterday to check on how you were!" Amber gushed, her hazel eyes sparkling excitedly. She was draped over Emma's bed, pouring over a magazine.

Emma raised her eyebrows in response. She'd forgotten how little encouragement Amber needed to talk.

"Only Craig Sutherland!" Amber sounded so enthusiastic that Emma wished she could muster up even half of her interest.

"Who?" she asked. She could remember that name, but as though she'd heard it in a dream. She tried to conjure up a picture of what someone called Craig Sutherland would look like. Edmund's face got in the way every time.

There was a long silence. Emma eventually looked up from the magazine she was flicking through lazily, not even seeing half the articles. Amber was staring at her, mouth open.

"You are joking?" she said reproachfully. Emma shook her head. "Emma! Craig Sutherland!" Emma shook her head again. "Oh my God! What happened to you when you got hit by that car? Craig Sutherland, only the fittest lad in the whole of London! Emma, you've been obsessing over him for like _ever_! Remember?"

Emma hesitated. Amber looked at her so keenly, so excitedly. How could she let that enthusiasm down? "Yeah, sure," she nodded eventually. "Sorry, just a bit of a mental block there."

"Oh right, yeah, cool." Amber immediately cheered up. "But anyway… he was dead interested, Emma. I gave him your number, has he not called yet?"

Emma shook her head. Amber reached over to pick up the pink mobile phone that Emma usually didn't have more than about a foot from her.

"Emma, it's not even switched on!" she shrieked, pressing the button herself. "God, no wonder he hasn't phoned!" She was silent for a few seconds before squealing with excitement as the phone beeped. "Oh my God, Em, he's actually text you! Listen! 'Really pleased to hear you're getting better, Em' – he called you _Em! _– 'Give me a text when you're well again, Craig'. Oh my God, Em, he actually text you and asked you to text him back!" Amber looked like she was in danger of hyperventilating. "Well, what are you gonna do?"

Emma frowned at her friend. "Do?"

"Well, he says text him back when you're well again. You are!" Amber was definitely suffering from a shortage of oxygen. Emma didn't remember her best friend being this high-pitched before. "Em, you've got to text him back, you've got to!"

Emma took the phone off her and read the badly spelt text message for herself. She did vaguely remember Craig now; captain of the football team, sat behind her in English for two years… fat lot of good that had done him, she thought, cringing at the message.

Amber was fantasising. "Oh God, Em, if you get with Craig then you could set me up with Luke! That would be so cool! Imagine us in the sixth form with those two!"

Emma's fingers hovered over the keys on the phone, unpractised and fumbling. Eventually she put the phone down.

"Actually, Amber, I'm not feeling too great," she lied.

"Oh, really?" Amber was genuinely concerned. "Should I get your mum, or…?"

"No, I just need to rest," Emma insisted. "Sorry."

"No, it's cool." Amber shook her head, so her auburn hair shimmered. "I'll give you a call tomorrow. Leave your phone on!" She headed downstairs. Emma heard her saying goodbye to her mum and the front door shutting. She turned over on her side in bed and closed her eyes, wishing, not for the first time, that she wasn't here.


	16. Chapter 16

A hush had fallen over the castle in recent weeks. Everyone had noticed it. The annual ball they held in celebration of their victory over the White Witch had gone ahead as usual, but there was a change. Peter had become even more upright and proud, greeting dignitaries with ease, but if anyone had looked closely they would have seen concern written all over his face under the charming smile. Susan had danced willingly with all the men who asked for her hand, and had made a lovely sight in a fresh green dress, but her smiles were thin and her conversation lacked her usual warmth and vigour. Edmund had stood awkwardly in corners, avoiding the spotlight, only taking ladies hands when they were forcibly put into his. All the women he'd danced with had regretted it almost instantly, for his dancing, never brilliant, had become clumsy and there were more than a few crushed toes. Even Lucy wasn't her usual friendly self, watching her brothers anxiously.

Away from public life, Edmund threw himself into his work. Peter was partly pleased; he instantly felt a weight lifted off of his back and he enjoyed his brother's company in the small chamber set aside for their work. Or he would have done if Edmund had responded to any of his questions with more than a yes or a no. Within days of Emma leaving so suddenly, Peter wished she was back, if only so that the emptiness would lift out of Edmund's face.

Finding themselves alone one day in the library, Peter tried to broach the subject. Edmund had said so little, simply that Emma had gone and wouldn't be back any time soon. But Peter recognised something about his brother's face that said more.

Carelessly, Peter took a book off a shelf and opened it. He looked through it and then said artlessly, "I wonder we haven't heard anything about Aslan coming recently."

The tell tale red started at Edmund's ears. He seemed unaware of it. Turning his back on Peter, and pretending to be completely absorbed in some charters, he said, "Do you?"

"It's been at least a month since the last supposed sighting." Peter nodded. It was nothing new for the kings and queens to have a faun or dryad, or even a young unicorn, come rushing to tell them that Aslan had been seen. So far they had never been true. Peter couldn't help thinking that perhaps, just perhaps, Aslan had forgotten all about them. He instantly attempted to erase the thought from his memory, but it stayed, whispering secretly to him all day and night.

Edmund gave a false laugh. "Well, you never know," he said.

Peter fell silent again, but watched his brother restlessly flick through charters, not even reading most of them before opening another. Finally, he put a stop to it, if only for the sake of the fragile parchments, some of which were over one hundred years old.

"Ed, was it Aslan that took Emma away?" he asked.

Edmund visibly stiffened at her name. Slowly, not turning round, he nodded.

Peter fought back the feeling of irritation that he felt, not only towards Edmund, but Aslan too. He'd been here, he'd been within spitting distance of the castle, and he hadn't even spent five minutes with the High King. Instead he'd sent some girl back where she came from, in the process reducing his brother to a wrecked shell.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Peter asked, his voice clipped despite his attempts to remain calm. Susan would have done this so much better.

Edmund shrugged.

"You could have at least tried, Ed," Peter reproached him gently, but Edmund felt the criticism.

"What would have been the point?" he asked, turning round. "What difference would it have made?"

"I don't know, it could have helped to share things," Peter said uncomfortably, aware that this wasn't his usual role. Caring and sharing was more Susan's bag, or Lucy's. Even Edmund himself was better at the whole "let's talk about" thing. Peter was a doer, he could give orders and organise things, and greet noblemen and women. He couldn't talk to people about their feelings. Not even his brother.

"You didn't want to know," Edmund replied, turning back to his charters.

"Oh, Ed, don't be stupid," Peter protested.

Edmund suddenly whipped back around and faced his brother with fire in his eyes. It was the first time since Emma had left that Peter had seen some animation in his face, but this wasn't the excitement and happiness that he'd had before; this was bitter contempt and anger and passionate hatred, directed straight towards him. Edmund hadn't worn that look for seven years.

"The only reason you wanted to know," he said, his voice strangely controlled, "was because you have to know everything. You only wanted to know so that you could believe yourself to be the important High King who knows everything. It wasn't because you cared about Emma or me."

Peter felt every insult hit him and for the first time, they hurt. It wasn't that they hadn't argued in the seven years since they'd ascended to the throne; they were brothers, of course they had. Edmund had told Peter thousands of times to stop being so strict, and Peter had berated Edmund an equal number of times for disobeying him. But this was the first time that the attacks had even got under his skin, let alone straight to every essential organ.

"Ed, that's not fair," he said in a strangled tone, sensing that it was just the tip of the iceberg, and that more was yet to come, much more, and far worse.

"You couldn't stand to see me happy, could you?" Edmund continued, as though his brother hadn't spoken. "You couldn't stand to see me be anything to anybody other than Edmund, younger brother of Peter the High King. You've always been the centre of the world, here and back home with Mother and Father. You couldn't bare the idea that Emma liked me, and that just for once I might come out on top. Just for once, Peter, I was better than you, and you couldn't wait for it all to come crashing down. Well congratulations! You and your precious bloody Aslan have won! Again!" He slammed out of the library, the heavy wooden door, so lovingly carved by the fauns crashing behind him, and sending several books jumping off their shelves to the floor.

Within minutes, Peter saw his brother scorching across the sand outside on his chestnut stallion. He felt numb now, the pains had gone. Breathing was suddenly hard and he trembled slightly. Those words, those ideas. The bitter hatred and resentment. It had never gone away, it had never been cleansed by Aslan. It had always been boiling under the surface. And the worst part was that it was all true.

The door opened timidly, the hinges creaking slightly after their previous rough treatment. Susan came in.

"Peter? What happened? Why's Edmund crashing about so much?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern and confusion. She put a hand on Peter's arm tentatively. "Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Peter hesitated. Once upon a time Susan was his best friend, an ally whenever Edmund turned against him, and someone to help him drag Lucy out of her bouts of homesickness. Uncomplaining, dependable, honest. Now he couldn't share anything with her, a wall had built up between them. Roughly he pushed her away.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly, stalking out the door. "I can't waste all day in here talking, I've got things to be getting on with."

* * *

Edmund raced to the grassy knoll where he and Emma had spent hours together. He pulled his horse up roughly, ignoring the flecks of foam at the chestnut's mouth and his sodden sides. He threw himself out of the saddle and, burying his head in the lush grass, silently sobbed. His horse wandered away, cropping at the grass and regaining his breath, preparing for what would no doubt be an equally hard ride back to the castle; since Emma had gone, Edmund had no time for leisurely strolls, letting the stallion go his own way. Without making a sound, Edmund poured out his sorrows into the ground, his anger dissipating with each shuddering sob. It was always like this, it always had been. His flares of anger never lasted, he never had the strength to hold on to them. The anger and his ability to express it died out, leaving only the bitter resentment behind. He hated feeling like this. The loneliness, the not-knowing, the feeling that he was the only person in the world that felt like this. And he was. For who else left in Narnia had sold the country out for the price of a little bit of importance? 


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! I've only got one more complete chapter after this because I still need to write the rest! Had exams etc but am now free until September jumps for joy apart from trying to find a pesky job. So hopefully should get some done... I've also been very enthusiastically writing quite a few Dr Who fics instead of continuing the fics I've already started... feels bad for abandoning them. Ah well... rant over!

* * *

Liam could stand it no longer. His mother and father hadn't had another screaming row in weeks, mainly because Alex had had the good sense to only visit the house when Carol was sure to be at work. Instead, there was a silent tension in their house; no one would speak to each other much about anything. His mother was doing all the usual things, nagging them all about the state of their rooms, muttering about electricity bills and could they all please try and empty the bin when they could see it was full to the brim? Abby, his younger sister, was rarely in; she was working double shifts this summer to earn enough money to go travelling next year after she finished university. Emma was completely absorbed by books, old ones, ones far too young for her really. Amber had gone on holiday for a fortnight with her mum and step-dad, and the house had been even more deadly without the vivacious redhead dragging Emma out of the house and out and about. Emma had made no effort to contact any of her other friends; in fact, Liam could almost believe that she was _glad_ Amber wasn't hanging around anymore, such was her disinterest in the latter's absence. There was still something troubling his little sister, and he resolved to find out what.

He slumped down on the sofa next to her. She barely looked up from her book. He waited several seconds before saying, "What you reading?"

"Nothing," Emma replied, almost automatically. Liam was used to her giving their mother this bland response. Never before had Emma dismissed her brother so easily.

"Don't be stupid, I can see it's something," he said teasingly. He took the book off her in one quick movement. " 'The Adventures of Bobby the Dragon'," he read. He flicked through the seventy-odd pages. "Didn't you used to read this when you were like ten?"

Emma reached to take it back. "Give it back, Liam."

Liam withheld it. "Emma, you're way ahead of this. Christ, you're a better reader than I am! You should be reading some trashy romance novel where they have sex on every page ending in a nought, or some sort of literary masterpiece where they only _have_ pages ending in a nought. Not… _this_."

"Was I asking for your opinion?" Emma glared at him and succeeded in taking the book back. She stood up and made to leave the room.  
"Oh hold on, Em," he said. "Don't go. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. But you have had your nose stuck in books for weeks now. Don't you want to do something else?"

Emma looked at her brother doubtfully. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Liam shrugged. "We could go for a drive if you like. Dad's garage finally fixed my car." It still annoyed him that he'd had to pay so much for the repairs; having a father who owned a garage should have had some perks at least.

He could tell Emma was interested, and trying hard to deny it. "Where to?" she asked finally.

Liam grinned. "Anywhere you like," he replied.

* * *

Once out of the city traffic, Liam relaxed a lot. It was all that sitting in traffic that had made his clutch go, not anything else. Certainly not the way he drove, he thought, as they swung around a tight corner in fourth gear.

Emma yelped slightly and he glanced over anxiously, before dropping his speed.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" he asked.

"No," Emma shook her head, though her face was pale. "No, it's fine, Liam. You know I don't mind the way you drive."

Even so, Liam took greater care around bends from then on. Emma was staring out of the window peacefully enough; for the first time since she'd come out of hospital, she actually looked serene and Liam was pleased he'd suggested this. Back when their parents had been arguing and on the verge of divorcing, he'd taken both Emma and Abby out for long drives to get them out of the house. Abby had grown tired of it, and since going to university in Sheffield, she'd all but become a stranger to the other two. But Emma had never lost her enthusiasm for these long car journeys with her beloved elder brother.

Emma began fiddling with the radio as soon as they got out into the countryside. "We need proper music for out here," she declared, as she skimmed through commercial pop and dance stations, searching for something more to their joint tastes.

"There's some tapes in the glovebox," Liam said.

Emma rifled through them, laughing out loud at some. "Since when have you been a huge fan of Celine Dion?" she questioned him, as she threw the greatest hits onto the back seat. Liam thought how ironic that action was; that tape had instigated a _lot_ of action on that seat with his ex-girlfriend.

Eventually Emma found a tape she liked and she shoved it in. It crackled slightly, betraying its age, and Liam had to grin as he recognised the song.

"The old ones are the best," he agreed, as the chorus kicked in.

_I'd hold you, I'd need you, I'd get down on my knees for you, and make everything alright, if you were in these arms. I'd love you, I'd please you, I'd tell you that I'd never leave you, and love you till the end of time, if you were in these arms tonight_

They drove in relative silence, appreciating the old familiar song. This tape had been the accompaniment to many a long drive back when Abby was in the back seat, insisting they'd put on something "better" and more modern, like Flat Beat by Mr Oizo. Liam had listened to that track once and felt like driving into a ditch; that was the last time Abby was allowed to sit in the front.

The song played out and the next began. Liam finally reached their destination and pulled up.

"Well kid, here we are," he said, putting the handbrake on and cutting the engine. "Back in the old place."

They looked out over the spread of the Chiltern Hills. From their vantage point, they could see for miles, across rolling hills, green pastures and small villages. Emma fumbled for the door, not wanting to take her eyes off of the sight before her.

They sat on the bonnet of the car, as they always used to do, even though Abby had always made prissy noises about it not being clean. Now that Liam thought about it, he didn't miss Abby joining them on these jaunts. She'd always been so narky.

Finally, Liam broached the subject he'd been wanting to for days. It had seemed hard at home, but here, where they'd spent some of their happiest times together, it seemed far simpler. Emma had never lied to him before.

"How you feeling these days?" he asked.

* * *

Such a simple question. Emma had thought that once she was out of the house and back up here, where she'd always been happiest, that she'd find the words to express how she was feeling. She'd thought that she'd have found it easy to share her experiences with Liam; she'd never had trouble talking to him before. It had always been so irritating, how he'd always been able to get to the heart of whatever petty problem she'd had in the past. She'd never been able to hide anything from him. But now something was holding it all back from him.

Opting for the simple answer, she shrugged.

"That's not an answer, Em," Liam insisted, sounding suspiciously like her mum for a moment. She was always claiming that Emma didn't tell her the truth.

Emma sighed. "I'm alright," she lied, sounding, she thought, pretty convincing. Liam clearly disagreed.

"If it's about the accident, I'm sure Dr. Stone will be able to sort out some sort of counselling sessions for you," he said. "She said she would, didn't she?"

Emma shook her head firmly. "No, it's not."

Liam frowned. "Emma, there's something you're not telling me. You've never kept secrets from me before."

Emma considered pointing out the serious flaws in his statement. She had kept many a secret from him. She hadn't told him about her crushes on boys, at least not when she was younger. She hadn't told him about his surprise twenty-first birthday party two years ago, even though she'd been dying to. There was loads of stuff she'd kept from him in the past.

She'd hoped being up here would help her sort things out in her head. It hadn't. She was only more aware now than before that the one person she wanted to be with was Edmund.


End file.
